Coping Mechanisms
by Mystical Authoress
Summary: Post-game AU. Thrown into prison after his defeat at Zael's hands, Zangurak desperately searches for a coping mechanism. Said coping mechanism arrives...albeit in a most unconventional way.


**Author note: I don't own the Last Story.**

 **Warning: Post-game AU, Zanguraksurvives!AU, Undead!Count Arganan, Count ArgananxZangurak, spoilers for the game, mentions of sex**

 **Constructive Criticism would be great and I hope that you read, review and enjoy! XDDD**

* * *

 _ **Coping Mechanisms**_

Summary: Thrown into prison after his defeat at Zael's hands, Zangurak desperately searches for a coping mechanism. Said coping mechanism arrives...albeit in a most unconventional way.

* * *

He shivered in the prison, but paid no mind to the scent of warm food and drink being shoved into his cell.

He didn't care. Not anymore.

He'd lost against Zael. Losing being _King_ of the Gurak, lost the chance of becoming a _God,_ even lost his right arm after he thought that by ripping it off it would get to the Outsider by itself and give him immortality. Lost who he thought was a close ally ( _that bastard Dagran betrayed him_ ) and lost his right hand men and too many of his own kind.

All was left for his was nothing but to rot in prison.

It would have been an absolute mercy to just execute him, but apparently Lady Calista Arganan thought it better to simply lock him up and stew over his bitter defeat.

And it was working all too well.

He refused to eat, or drink. He would die faster that way. His thick, red hair, like a lion's mane, began to fall out due to the lack of nutrition. He lost muscle mass, slowly, but surely kept losing it. He had no armor, as it was stripped from him and replaced with the ragged, black robes of a prisoner. There were no visitors for him that wanted to come see him out of their own will.

"Don't give _me_ that worthless pity, human," He'd snapped at Zael when his opponent came to check on him, "If you want to laugh, then do it."

Zael never came again to visit. The only so-called 'visitors' Zangurak had were the guards that came to bring him food and then take it away after realizing that he wasn't going to eat or drink.

It was not the most glorious way to die. He imgined that if he did die, he would die in the glory of battle. No. Instead, he would rot and decay in this isolated cell.

Weak laughter escaped him as he wrapped his arms about himself, wrapping the robe about him a bit tighter. Was it always so cold down here?

Was it always so...lonely?

There was no one there for him now. This would be his end; lonely and rotting into nonexistence.

There wouldn't be any coping mechanism for him to get through this.

Or would there...?

A sudden clatter of footsteps approached his cell, and he turned his head to see a somewhat unfamiliar figure. His robes were ragged, but from what was left of them it appeared that he must be a noble. He was human in appearance, his wavy blond hair grimy and disheveled. The left side of his face lacked an eyepatch, exposing burnt skin. But the most notable things about this person were the prosthetic, mechanical limbs and his limping movements as he approached the cell door without a cane, stopping right before the door to look at Zangurak quietly.

"Here you are." The figure spoke, blinking once, gazing at him. "I thought you'd be here. I heard that you survived...but you look barely alive to me, Zangurak."

Zangurak had never encountered him personally, but he'd heard of this man. The _late_ uncle of Calista Arganan.

"Count Arganan, I presume?" Zangurak managed, realizing how hoarse his voice was. "You should be dead."

Arganan gazed back at him blankly, before stepping forwards, straight through the cell doors. "I know. And I am."

Zangurak gazed at him suspiciously. "So you are nothing but a mere ghost, then? A mere hallucination from my starvation?" He gave a disbelieving look towards him. "Does this mean I'll die soon?"

Arganan made a sound of disgust, shaking his head. "I am not a ghost, but not a hallucination either." The former Count of Lazulis responded, giving him a little glare. "It's...a long story. And I'm not sure if you want to listen."

Zangurak gave him a weak glare back in response. "I can listen. I will die eventually after all and I don't exactly have anything else better to do but to speed up my own death."

Arganan walked over to him quietly, slowly sitting on the ground as he faced him, wincing slightly. "As you may already know, I tried to gain the Outsider's power for myself, and it made me dissolve into particles of energy. The thing is...the Outsider temporarily absorbed me and made me into energy—" He shuddered more at that, "to fuel it to do what it needed to do—use the Lazulis Cannon to shoot your own moving island. But there were still parts of me left afterwards that weren't used after the Cannon broke down, still absorbed within the Outsider."

So _that_ was how his demise happened. Zangurak hadn't heard much of it before.

"Zael and Calista sent it back to space," the older man continued, "And after it was sent back to space, it began to give life to other worlds rather than take life. And thus I was given my current form as I was able to gain life from its energy. But I don't think I can stay in this state forever. I'll eventually break up into little particles of dust. Or something like that." A grim laugh escaped him. "So I suppose we could easily die at the same time, then, or something like that. Discarded, forgotten. That's what happens in the end to all of us."

"Well," Zangurak responded, "Sucks for you, doesn't it?"

Arganan didn't flinch. "I'm already dead. I don't have much else to lose, do I?"

* * *

Some days Arganan would be around in his vision. Other times he wouldn't.

But the most annoying part about the insufferable being was that he would try to urge him to do something.

"Don't you want to live?" Arganan spoke, pacing about the cell, shaking his head. "Don't you want to breathe and move and...live?"

Zangurak glared at him. "Do you think I have anything to live for?"

"How about your own people?" The older man huffed, glaring back at him and stopping his pacing. "You still have them."

"And they would slander me with horrid things. I am more than sure that my true objectives have been revealed to them by now."

"Oh. Right."

The two were silent for a while after that.

* * *

"What about yourself? Have you ever really lived for yourself, or have you—"

"Please shut up."

"I won't."

"Well shit."

"You actually want to die?"

Zangurak glared up at Arganan, who frowned at him.

"I mean," The older man responded, crossing his arms as he faced him, "Do you have no backup plan for yourself for what to do? Was all your energy really focused on being so sure that you'd achieve godhood?"

"You're no better than me." The former King of the Gurak snapped back. "Did you not also try to achieve godhood in some way?"

Arganan winced. "You have a point about that. That is true, Zangurak." He stopped after that, falling into silence.

Zangurak didn't like the way Arganan just kept addressing him like they were old friends. They were _not_ old friends, or accquaintances, and _certainly not getting along._ Right?

Then...why did Arganan keep talking to him? Was the older man so desperate to have some form of company, someone to talk to now that he was dead?

Or was Zangurak himself desperate for companionship?

Zangurak, desperate? The King of the Gurak shook his head slightly at that. There could be no way that was possible. There was no way that he would bond so closely with a human out of all creatures.

* * *

Zangurak couldn't help but find him less annoying as time passed by. The King of the Gurak had no idea how long he'd spent in this cell, now.

But now there was something torn for him. Not literally, of course—oh, wait, that _could_ be taken literally. The lack of a right arm did not help that.

But there was something torn inside. Something that he hadn't expected since being thrown in the cell.

There was the will to _live._ That he _craved_ to live, that he absolutely wanted to live, but there was the force of death dragging at the other side, willing him, _wishing him_ to depart his life and let things be.

The will to live won, much to his shock.

When the next tray of food came, Zangurak could no longer stand the hunger and just push it away. He couldn't get himself to push it away anymore. He felt his abdomen lurch as he nearly lunged for the food (making sure that the human guard who brought it was out of sight, Zangurak didn't want to look desperate or weak in front of humans), grabbing the dry bread and stuffing his mouth full of it.

He threw up shortly afterwards, having gone so long without food and now only starting to eat again.

Arganan winced in the corner. "I figure you should try to start with water first."

Zangurak glared at him. "Thank you for the _late_ advice, human." He snapped sarcastically in response, before picking up the glass of water (almost breaking it, but not quite in his grip) and drinking from it.

* * *

Zangurak gained a little more weight. Not a huge amount, but a healthy amount. He wasn't deteriorating into skin and bones because at least he ate and drank now, but he still didn't really speak to anyone other than Arganan.

"Am I the only one that can see you, human?"

Arganan scoffed, giving him a look. "I do have a name, Zangurak." He responded, crossing his arms. "And yes, apparently you _are_ the only one that can see me." His scowl vanished instantly. "Not even...not even Calista can see me."

The former King of the Gurak turned to him. "You want her to see you?" He asked. He'd heard of the ill relations the Count and his niece shared between each other. Why would Arganan want to be able to be seen by someone who he had bad relations with?

The former Count sighed, looking down, leaning against the wall behind him. "I...I have unfinished business with her. That's all." He didn't appear to want to talk anymore about it. Zangurak didn't press him for more information and instead went silent.

* * *

Zangurak still didn't quite talk to people other than Arganan (who was very much dead, technically, and didn't appear to be going away any time soon). Though he soon found himself talking a little more.

The surprising thing one day was that one of his other old enemies came to visit. It was not Calista, nor was it Zael.

It was Lowell. The same person that Zesha had reportedly killed, but somehow came back to life due to the power of the Outsider's influence.

"Heard you actually started eating," Lowell spoke, standing on the opposite side of the bars. He had a small grin on his face. "Can't help but be interested, you know. Two or three weeks ago you were starving to death, and now look at you. You don't look half bad, honestly. Your hair is even growing nicely now, too. Heard it was falling out before, so it's good to see you a bit healthier, honestly."

Zangurak frowned, hesitantly running one of his hands through his own red locks. The human was right—it was longer and thicker now. Still a bit unkempt but definitely healthier. "I'm not sure whether I should accept that as a compliment or as some hidden insult, human." He responded quietly, but sharply.

The ice mage frowned. "Hey, hey, it was supposed to be a compliment. Thought you'd like that, Zangurak. I'd bring Syrenne with me but she's still, uh...kind of bitter about what happened to me during the war, you know." He tapped his chest slightly in memory of being stabbed by Zesha. "I don't think she's completely moved on yet, and I'm not about to force her to see you." He sighed, the grin returning to his face. "Anyway, I'm just glad to see you better. Hope you're still keeping on that road to recovery."

Lowell had some noticeable mistiness in his eyes, as if recounting something. "It took me a long while to recover from stuff in my past. I know I've never been in the same shitty situation as you right now, but I can tell when someone is learning to move on. I think you are." He then blinked a few times, some kind of strange look appearing. "Who's that with you in there?"

"What?" Zangurak looked behind him just as Arganan darted behind him to hide. "I see no one, human."

Lowell shrugged. "Ah, never mind. Probably a trick of the light."

* * *

"He saw me."

Those were the first words Arganan spoke as soon as Lowell left.

Zangurak stared back at him. "He could see you?"

Arganan nodded, wrapping his arms about himself. "Y-yes, he could. I could sense that he could see me. That's why I hid behind you earlier." He shivered slightly, looking around. "I don't understand. How? You were the first one who could ever see me ever since I ended up being undead." He referred to himself as 'undead' as he technically didn't have a heartbeat (the Outsider did technically kill him in the past after all) but he was still breathing, strangely enough.

The former Gurak King frowned, and then felt something twinge in his chest. What was this that he felt? Was it—pity? Sympathy? What?

More importantly, _why_ was he even feeling this way right _now_ of all times towards a _human?_

"Do you think your niece could see you?" The words escaped Zangurak's lips before he could stop them. He wasn't sure whether he should call himself stupid for just saying it straight out or just go with it.

Arganan didn't seem to mind, his good eye widening in surprise. "It's possible," He managed, straightening himself. "I should try. I'll be back."

He disappeared before Zangurak could say another word.

* * *

Arganan was gone for a good one or two days, probably trying to get Calista's attention, see if she could see him.

Which gave Zangurak ample time to just think about what the hell he was doing.

What the hell _was_ he doing with feeling these things towards the human? Towards Arganan?

What was he even doing with himself? Didn't he want to die? Why did he want to live now?

The questions tossed and turned about in his head, before he held his head in his hands. It hurt thinking of all the questions. Even managing the Gurak Continent suddenly seemed easier than _this,_ whatever in the world it could be.

He just wanted to get it sorted out somehow.

When Arganan came back, Zangurak just went and grabbed him.

Arganan blinked, surprised. "I see that I'm even tangible to you—" He started, but then the inevitable happened.

Zangurak pulled him close, kissing him. It was sloppy, messy, imperfect, but for some reason the former Gurak King couldn't quite put a finger on why it felt so _good._

"Wh-what the hell!?" Arganan pulled back, glaring at him, his face flushed red. "What in the world have you been thinking of for the past two days while I was gone?"

Zangurak smirked. "How about the very _tempting_ image of me fucking you right against the floor or the wall?" He responded quickly, and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he saw the other give some mortified sort of expression. "Everyone expects me to go mad sometime soon despite my slow recovery. Might as well give them a show of it."

He leaned close to kiss him again, but Arganan managed to dodge him slightly, backing up against hte wall and gazing at him curiously. "No, really." The older man responded. "Why are you doing this?"

Zangurak groaned. He didn't _want_ to tell Arganan about how he was feeling these strange feelings towards him, and he had to get it sorted out. He roughly kissed him again, presding him up againdt the wall.

"I nedd you," he hissed, "to sort out something."

Arganan chuckled slightly, kissing him back messily, letting the wall behind him support him. "Is it absolutely necessary?"

Zangurak growled. The older , an just didn't get it! Nipping his throat, elicting a moanfrom the older man, Zangurak couldn't help but smirk. "Yes. Now shut up and sleep with me."

He heard Arganan smile, grinding against him. "Fine. I will."

* * *

He woke up feeling like a figurative and literal mess. Realizing that the thin, ragged blanket he had only covered the lower half of his naked body (who put a blanket over him?) he moved to reclothe himself. Noticing a few towels on the ground nearby (those were _not_ there before), he used those to wipe himself up first before beginning to dress.

"Did you sort it out?"

Zangurak looked up to see Arganan, fully dressed and grinning slightly, leaning against the wall.

Zangurak just stared at him, confused as he redressed himself. "Sort out _what_ , human?"

Arganan sighed. "You said you needed me to sort out something. Were you able to...?"

Zangurak remembered last night, with all the kissing, the clothing, shuddering breaths between them. Something about the contact felt better than mere physical pleasure for him. Did that mean it was love? He wasn't quite sure, though he was now sure that it was far from stupid lust. The former Gurak King nodded quietly.

"Yes." He responded. "I was."

Arganan smiled. "Good. I got you the towels earlier. Stole some spare ones from the bathrooms of the castle."

Zangurak just blankly stared at him.

The older man blinked. "What? I doubt you'd like to see others walk in on you with the mess you're in."

* * *

Things felt strange for Zangurak from then on whenever he was with Arganan (which was basically most of every day). They couldn't help but talk to each other when there wasn't anyone else around to hear them. Arganan started spilling out more and more about himself and Zangurak would listen, and then the opposite would happen, too. Zangurak would speak and Arganan would listen. It felt strange exchanging more and more words to each other, but something about it felt _right_ and so neither of them really thought too much about it.

Zangurak knew he felt pity and sympathy for the hu—Arganan. But what else was this that he felt? He knew it wasn't just stupid lust anymore, but how the hell could it be love? He was a Gurak and Arganan was human. What they...what they shared between each other was simply to pass the time, right? To just bear with their hellish situations and hope for the better, if hoping was possible?

No, this felt like more than just that.

Arganan appeared, holding his head with one hand, trembling as he leaned against the wall. It took a moment for the former Gurak King to realize that Arganan was sobbing.

"What happened to you?" Zangurak asked, looking to him quietly.

Arganan shuddered, a whimper escaping his lips as he stumbled forwards, leaning against Zangurak.

"Calista could see me." He whispered,laying his head against Zangurak's chest, not bothering to look up at him. "She could see and hear me. We talked, I..." He couldn't get himself to say much more, but Zangurak had a feeling that Arganan's 'unfinished business' with his niece was now 'finished.'

Zangurak slowly encircled his arms about the older man's waist, letting him cry. He was never good with reassuring crying people, but at the least he could offer his presence.

* * *

Maybe this was love after all. He was sure that it was not lust anymore.

Zael and Calista were both in shock at hearing of _Zangurak,_ once starving himself to death in despair, now recovering slowly but steadily. And the Gurak were begging for their king to return, even if they'd been used, because without Zangurak they would never be truly united. And all Zael and Calista could do was give their king back to them after all their protesting and pleading.

Zangurak was let out of his prison, allowed to be the Gurak King again as long as he agreed to the peace treaty and followed it. Zangurak grudgingly accepted it but knew it was probably for the better. He didn't feel like dying anytime soon. And yes, he'd lost his chance at godhood but maybe he could live with it. He was still King. He still had that. And he still had his people, even if they had mixed feeling about their King right now. Zangurak would change that. He'd make them support him, even without Zesha and Zepha by his side.

And now he had Arganan with him, too. It somehow made things better, like some coping mechanism.

Both stood in Zangurak's bedchamber, Arganan helping Zangurak to put his kingly robes on. It appeared that Arganan wasn't going to go away anytime soon. He was still a bit on the undead side, but it didn't matter too much in Zangurak's point of view. Arganan wasn't visible to literally everyone—just a handful of people. As long as he kept himself hidden when needed it was fine.

To be honest, even if Zangurak was one of the only ones that could really 'see' Arganan, it was fine.

"So," Arganan spoke, a slight grin on his face as he watched Zangurak put on his black crown as he approached him, "Happy that you have your position back, Zangurak?"

Zangurak looked to him quietly, shrugging once. "Perhaps I am." He responded. "But there is still much to fix with the Gurak Continent so it will truly prosper. A peace treaty cannot really be one unless one enforces it."

"And you'll enforce it? I imagine you'll do a good job of it. I mean," Arganan chuckled slightly, running his metal hand through a strand of Zangurak's hair, "You were the one to unite your people. It's only fair to say that you'd do a good job of keeping them together."

Zangurak felt himself smile slightly as he looked to Arganan. "We'll see." He responded quietly.

Arganan nodded, hesitantly offering a hand to him.

And Zangurak took it as the two went out of the room.

It wouldn't be easy with what was going on now but they had each other as coping mechanisms. It would work out.


End file.
